Greener Grass
by Svendances
Summary: The grass is always greener on the other side. Isn't that what they tell us? It's certainly what young sisters Stephanie and Valerie think when watching the other interact with their parents. Stand alone piece. Neither Babe nor Cupcake.
1. Mommy and Her

_To celebrate the fact that I bought a new laptop (One that works! And that stays on for longer than three minutes at a time! AND DOESN'T RESTART ITSELF A ZILLION TIMES AND HOUR!) I decided to finally write this little story that's been running around in my head on and off for months. I believe the idea first came to me when I was annoyed at my sister for monopolising my parents' time when I was trying to make some really tough decisions about my future and wanted their help. There should hopefully be three parts to this eventually each from a different perspective of the family._

**Greener Grass**

_Mommy and Her_

I sat at the fringe of the excitement, watching. It was my usual place. Never involved. Never included. I watched as my mother took my sister's hand, guiding her, showing her the most effective and gratifying way to do it. All my life it had been like this. Her and Mommy, off in their own little exclusive world, practically ignoring little old always-seems-to-be-in-the-way me. Her and Mommy doing homework assignments. Her and Mommy sewing. Her and Mommy cooking. Her and Mommy cleaning. Her and Mommy. _Her and Mommy._ HER. AND. MOMMY. I was sick of it.

Oh, don't get me wrong, they always tried to include me one way or another, merely so I could wreak havoc while they were otherwise occupied. "Stephanie, can you get the – insert random item here – for me?" "Stephanie, hold this for a minute." "Stephanie, why don't you – insert completely useless task here -." I was always just an afterthought when it came to them, cast to the outer rings of their circle to sit and watch, out of the way.

"Valerie," Mommy said, distracting me from my hateful thoughts. "You're doing such a wonderful job! Don't you think she's doing a wonderful job, Stephanie?" See? Yet another half hearted attempt to make me feel included. By asking me questions she was, to an extent, incorporating me in the activity. The sucky part about this method of inclusion was that it usually required me to comment on my sister's actions. And, of course, those comments were expected to be positive. I wonder if my mother realises that the great things I say about Valerie when she asks are just me being sarcastic...

Today, we – by which I mean Mommy and Valerie – were backing. A batch of cookies was already in the oven filling the kitchen with the most delicious smells ever. I had been allowed to do little more than lick the spoon for their creation, but at least I got some raw cookie dough out of it. Mmmm yummy. Now there were working on a Cherry Ripe slice. Valerie was chopping the cherries.

I watched her carefully cut the little red ball in half for a moment, trying to think of something "positive" to say about it. "I wanna help," I eventually told Mommy rather than answer her question. After all, Thumper always says _'If you can't say nothing nice, don't say nothing at all.'_

"Okay, sweetie," Mommy said with a tight smile, reaching for a container on the bench. "Why don't you measure out some coconut for me?"

She placed the container of coconut and a measuring cup in front of me and I screwed my nose up at her. "I don't want to do that," I told her flatly, pushing it away and crossing my arms over my chest. "I want to chop stuff. Like Valerie."

Mommy took a moment to study me, turned her head to look at what Valerie was doing before looking back at me. I could tell she didn't trust me. She didn't want me anywhere near the knife. She didn't want me anywhere near the stove. She didn't want me anywhere near the kitchen. Probably, she would prefer if I was out in the backyard playing in my tree. Not that she liked it when I played in my tree, but I bet she was wishing I was out there right now and not bugging her in the kitchen.

As I gazed steadily into her nervous eyes I saw her plan forming. She wanted me out of the kitchen and she knew one way to do it. Lucky for me, I'd already safe guarded myself in that department.

"Have you finished your homework?" she asked.

I nodded enthusiastically, retrieving my homework book from the side table and presenting it for her to check. She looked over every skerrick of my work, trying to find something to pull me up on, but for once I'd already finished everything, done my reading and learned my spelling words.

"Did you learn your spelling?" she asked, eyeing me suspiciously. It's the same look she gives me when she's tucking me into bed and asks if I've brushed my teeth.

"Yep," I said merrily, standing a little taller, waiting for her praise. It wasn't every day that her second daughter willingly did her homework. Instead, I got a narrow eyed, squinty look that clearly said she wanted me to prove it.

"Validation," she said and I snorted inwardly at the irony before spelling it for her. When I got it correct the first time she didn't smile, didn't praise, just nodded and moved to the next. And the next. And then finally, when I'd spelled all my words correctly, she sighed and called Daddy into the room.

"What is it?" he asked, sniffing appreciatively at the air. Daddy always loved it when Mom was cooking. Or when Valerie was cooking, I suppose.

"Your daughter -," she nodded to me, "want to _chop_ stuff," Mommy said in the tone of voice I'd come to refer to in my head as her _Get Stephanie away from here_ voice.

Daddy wasn't having it. "Then let her chop stuff, Helen. What harm can it do?"

I watched Mommy bristle. That wasn't the answer she'd been looking for. Obviously. "She could _cut herself ,_Frank. Remember last Thanksgiving at your mother's house when someone left the carving knife within reach? She nearly cut her fingers off." At this reminder, I looked at the little scars on my left knuckles. I didn't think I was that close to cutting my fingers off...

Daddy did one of his eye rolls that he always does. "Don't give her a _carving knife_," he said and I like to think he added an insult silently at the end of it. Something like, _you stupid woman!_ "Just give her a butter knife. They're completely harmless."

"I don't have anything she can chop with a butter knife," Mommy said, beseechingly. Still trying to get rid of me.

Casting his gaze around the kitchen, Daddy spotted Valerie on the cherries. "What about cherries?"

Mommy sighed and stuck her hands on her hips in frustration. "Valerie is chopping the cherries."

"So let Stephanie help."

For the next minute or so they had a staring contest, which Daddy – the calm one – won hands down. Mommy wasn't at all happy about this. She liked to get her way. Liked to control everything. Everything always had to be perfect. Like the cherries Valerie was chopping. They were all exactly the same.

I'll show Mommy that I can make my cherries perfect too. Then she'll _have to _include me.

I grabbed my 'big girl step,' as Daddy called it, so I could reach the bench properly while standing up and Mommy showed me the proper way to chop the cherries several times before letting me have the knife. She then proceeded to watch me like a hawk as I carefully replicated her actions.

Ten minutes later I had a bowl of perfectly chopped cherries sitting in front of Mommy as she inspected them as closely as she had my homework. I could tell mine were better than Valerie's. I could also tell that Mommy didn't want to acknowledge that fact. She huffed as she added the cherries to the rest of the ingredients she had prepared and I grinned at her.

"Did I do good, Mommy?" I asked, puffing out my chest, ready for her compliment.

"Of course you did, honey," she said after a moment. "I'm proud of both of you. Now why don't you wash your hands and go play?" It wasn't exactly the heartfelt praise I had expected, but it'd do for now.

Bolstered by my mother's pride, I skipped out to the backyard and my tree, climbing as high as I could go. When I was seated on my favourite branch I told the birds that flew away how good a cherry chopper I was and how proud my mommy was of my chopping.

* * *

_Drop me a line and let me know what you think._


	2. Daddy and Her

_I've been meaning to update this story for a while. This little short has taken many a different forms in the past, but here it is, finally, for you viewing pleasure._

_Daddy and Her_

He never pays attention to me. It's always about her. Probably helps that she's constantly doing stupid things and hurting herself. He's always rushing her off to the hospital. Like the time she jumped off the roof, thinking she could fly. How dumb was that? Everyone knows humans can't fly. Our bones are too dense and we don't have feathers or wings. Sometimes I wish my sister would just grow up.

Like yesterday when we got home from school. We'd just gotten off the bus. I was first because I'm older, and also because I was really excited about my award that I'd gotten and wanted to show Mommy and Daddy. I was skipping up the path to the porch where Mommy was waiting for us when she gasped and called to Daddy in that urgent voice she got every time Stephanie did something stupid. I tried to grab her attention and show her my award as she rushed past me. And then the same with Daddy. But they ignored me. They were too focused on Stupid Stephanie.

That's what I was going to start calling her. Stupid Stephanie. She couldn't even walk without screwing up. How did she get past kindergarten if she couldn't walk without injury?

Dropping my hand and award to my side, I let out a long suffering sigh and turned to see what idiotic thing my sister had done this time.

Daddy had her on his knee while Mommy dabbed at her face with her apron. Stupid Stephanie was bawling her eyes out with blood gushing from her nose and gravel embedded in her face. My immediate assumption was that she'd tripped over her shoelace – she never did her laces up right and they were always coming undone, no matter what – coming down the stairs of the bus and ended up face planting in the gutter. How did she even manage to land face first in the gutter when there was less than a foot between the bus door and the curb?

I sighed and rolled my eyes, turning to go inside and drag the first aid kit out from under the sink. I honestly had no idea why we even bothered putting it away. It seemed the moment we did Stupid Stephanie hurt herself again.

I'd just hefted the box onto the kitchen table when Daddy carried Stupid Stephanie in and sat her on the counter. It looked like she was holding Mommy's good apron to her still bleeding nose. Dadd started gently cleaning the gravel from her forehead and dabbed some antiseptic on the graze before persuading her to move the bloody apron so he could take a look at it.

Mommy handed me my usual after school snack of milk and a fresh baked cookie and sat me down at the kitchen table to do my homework. I was working on my spelling words when Mommy came back into the room and handed Stupid Stephanie a wad of what looked like tissues to hold to her _still_ bleeding nose, taking the disgusting apron and heading toward the laundry, muttering about soaking it to get the blood out.

Setting my pencil aside, I grabbed up my award and followed her down the hall, catching up with her as she was about to go down to the laundry.

"Look what I got, Mommy!" I exclaimed, tugging on her hand to get her attention and holding my award under her nose so she couldn't miss it. "I got an award!"

"That's brilliant, Baby!" Mommy enthused, then read from my award. "For the best speller." She bent down and hugged me tight, kissing me on the head. "Very good, Valerie. Well done. Go back to your homework now. I'll hang this on the fridge just as soon as I've put my apron on to soak."

"Can I show Daddy?" I asked her, reaching for the award.

"Daddy's busy at the moment," she informed me, as if I couldn't already see that. "We'll show it to him after dinner maybe."

After dinner? I thought. Maybe? This was so not fair. All Stephanie had to do was fall on her face and she was the centre of attention. I couldn't even get recognition for one stinking award that I worked _hard_ for weeks for.

I crossed my arms over my chest and stomped back to the kitchen table to finish my homework. Stupid Stephanie was there. Eating an ice-pop! No fair!

"Can I have an ice-pop?" I asked Daddy as he threw Stupid Stephanie's wrapper in the bin.

"You just had milk and a cookie," he told me. What was it with my parents and telling me things I already knew? Did they think I was as dumb as Stupid Stephanie?

"But Stephanie got an ice pole!" I exclaimed.

Daddy came over and sat on the chair next to me. "Stephanie's hurt. The ice-pole is making her feel better, and it's helping make sure her lip doesn't get too swollen."

I glared at him. "It was her nose that got hurt, Daddy, not her mouth," I told him.

He shook his head. "Stephanie split her lip when she fell as well."

I rolled my eyes and went back to my homework, ignoring the both of them. For dinner we, of course, had one of Stupid Stephanie's favourites. And after, I was all geared up to show Daddy my special award where Mommy had pinned it to the fridge, but Stupid Stephanie dragged him into the living room first to play with her stupid action figures. Which he did. I hope he realises that the stupid action figures are part of the reason she decided to jump of the roof and break her leg.

It just wasn't fair. Daddy did absolutely everything with Stupid Stephanie and he wouldn't even have a tea party with me and my pretty, well behaved dollies. So there I sat, reading my book, while Daddy and Stupid Stephanie zoomed the stupid little plastic toys all around the room, occasionally having the gall to bounce one off my shoulder or head or even land one in my book. Stupid Stephanie didn't even look like she was in pain any more. She was just an attention seeking poo brain.

I huffed and closed my book, setting it gently on the coffee table while Stupid Stephanie made her Wonder Woman toy do back flips from the arm of the couch.

"Hey Chicken," Daddy called from his position on the floor. "Why don't you take over for me? I've gotta go help Mommy with the dishes." For just a moment I thought he was going to ask me to join him. Or even ask me about my day. I don't know why I even got my hopes up.

I rolled my eyes and took the stupid boy doll from him and made it do the splits on the coffee table before throwing it at the couch so it could fly. Stupid Stephanie giggled and threw Wonder Woman at the couch too. Which turned into an absolutely boring contest to see who's toy could bounce off the cushion the highest.

Before I knew it, it was bed time. I dutifully washed my face and hands and brushed my teeth while Stupid Stephanie complained that it hurt too much to touch her face and was exempt from the nightly hygiene routine. Daddy tucked her into bed and read her a story, while Mommy pulled up my covers and gave me my book for me to read to myself. Because I'm a big girl and can read for myself. Unlike Stupid Stephanie.

I was about to close my book and turn off my bedside lamp to go to sleep when Daddy stuck his head in the door. "Hey Chicken," he called softly. "You still awake?" I set the book aside and nodded at him as he came in and sat on the edge of my bed. "I'm proud of you," he told me, ruffling my hair. "Mommy showed me your award. Best Speller. Of course, I already knew you were the best speller. In the whole, wide world. You know how I know?"

I shook my head.

"You spell better than Mommy," he whispered, then put his finger over his lip when I giggled. "Shhh, he urged me. Don't tell Mommy, she'll get jealous."

Giggling some more, I zipped my lips. "I love you Daddy," I told him.

I grinned at me. "I love you too, Chicken. And thank you for playing with Stephanie tonight. It was a real help."

"You're welcome, Daddy," I said, feeling my heart grow so big that it was practically bursting out of my chest. I rolled over and pulled the covers up over my shoulders, unable to stop grinning.

"Goodnight, Chicken," he whispered, dropping a light kiss on my cheek before leaving my room.

That night, I went to sleep with the biggest smile on my face that I'd ever had and dreamt of a world where everything was spectacularly pretty and not stupid like Stupid Stephanie.

* * *

_One more to go. Next one is from Mommy and Daddy's point of view. Please take the time to review._


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